


If Not Better

by siriuslywinchester



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: A little bit heartbreaking, But hopefully kind of cute, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4435640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslywinchester/pseuds/siriuslywinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the Hungarian Grand Prix, Max passes up on partying with his team to check up on Carlos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Not Better

Max was ecstatic. He never dreamed that, in his rookie year of Formula 1, he'd manage to get so close to a podium. It was a crazy race and nearly everybody had suffered some bad luck, but he'd finished fourth and he couldn't be prouder of himself. His excitement was slightly marred by Carlos' retirement, but he was still proud of himself. Even his Dad had hugged him and say how great he'd done.

When he'd returned to the garage after weighing and chatting with the press, his team had been jumping, cheering and partying like they'd won the race. The exuberance had lasted the whole journey back to the hotel and into the bar at the side of the lobby. Most of them had been drinking before they even left the track and Max had no idea where they'd found all the beer they'd been drinking in the taxis.

Max followed his engineers into the bar, aware that he wasn't actually old enough for alcohol and not entirely sure he wanted to get drunk anyway. He glanced around, hoping that somewhere in the sea of blue and red t-shirts he'd spot the familiar mess of brown hair that he longed to see. Carlos hadn't been in his garage after the race. They'd normally head back to the hotel together, discussing the day and making plans for the evening, but the Spaniard was nowhere to be found.

Carlos' race had ended just 9 laps from the end. Max had heard on the radio that h'ed been having issues and to push harder for as many points as he could earn for the team. He wanted to check that Carlos was OK. All of the happiness at how he'd performed was tainted by the need to see Carlos and make sure he wasn't upset. He knew his team mate handled situations like this well, but he wanted to make sure, and his absence only worried him further.

"We're gonna head out to a club," one of his engineers yelled into his ear, snapping Max's attention away from another scan of the room, "We can try and sneak you in."

The engineer grinned, his breath already thick with beer and his eyes half glazed.

"I think I'll just stay here," Max smiled, politely, "It would ruin the mood if I ended up arrested for under age drinking. I'm tired anyway."

"Awwwww," his engineer replied, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout and ruffling the drivers hair before quickly turning back to the rest of the crew, "Come on, lads! Let's get on it! GO TORO ROSSO!"

He pointed towards the door and there was a great cheer from the rest of the engineers in the bar. Max could help but grin as he watched them all march out of the hotel, some of them hugging and high-fiving him as they passed, on their way to celebrate his greatest achievement to date.

As soon as they were all out of the door and staggering down the street to find a place to party, Max headed to the suite he shared with Carlos. It was a large suite, with four bedrooms. They normally had separate hotel rooms, but for some reason the bookings had messed up and Carlos and Max had ended up sharing the top floor penthouse. Neither of them had complained - they spent most of their weekends together anyway and this time they had a choice of beds.

Max knocked on the door of the room Carlos had chosen as his bedroom and waited for a reply. There was no sound and he began to wonder if his team mate had stayed at the track, helping his engineers to figure out what had happened. He glanced at his watch. It was almost 9pm. He was fairly certain that even the engineers would have given up and headed back to base by now.

He tried the handle, pushing against the door and finding it opened easily.

Carlos was in bed, the duvet tucked over him as he faced away from the door. Max could see that his shoulders were shaking and now that he was in the room, he could hear the quiet sniffles as his team mate sobbed. His heart broke. How could he have spent so long in the bar with his team when his best friend - the guy he loved most in the world - was up here crying alone.

He walked towards the bed, toeing his shoes off quickly and lifting the edge of the duvet so that he could slide in behind Carlos and rest his chin on the Spaniard's shoulder, their cheeks touching. Carlos' cheek was wet from tears and Max had to force himself not to cry in response.

"Carlos?" he whispered, lifting his head slightly and reaching forward to wipe a tear that ran down the older drivers cheek with his thumb, "Don't cry."

Carlos didn't respond, except to snuggle backwards into Max, allowing the younger driver to wrap his arms around him properly and kiss the top of his head. He stroked his hair for a little while, trying to find the right words to say to attempt to make Carlos feel better.

"You know it wasn't your fault," he whispered, "There was nothing you could do. You've never been this upset about retirements in the past."

Carlos breathed inwards, a gulping sob shaking the whole bed, causing Max to cling onto him more tightly and place hurried kisses against his neck.

"But you did so well today," Carlos replied, his voice breaking as he tried to sound natural, "It made my race look worse."

"Don't be silly," Max said, rubbing Carlos' arm and trying to tug him to turn around and face him, "We can't compa-"

"I'm going to get dropped," Carlos cut in, sobbing louder as he rolled over and curled him into Max's chest, his tears falling fast and furious onto the Belgian's t-shirt, "I don't want to be remembered as Max's team mate that got dropped. I want to be remembered as Carlos - Just as good as Max, if not better."

Max couldn't help but smile, placing his lips against Carlos' forehead as the Spaniard gripped onto his t-shirt, crying loudly now. He wrapped his arms tightly around Carlos, never wanting to let go. His fingers tangled in the older drivers hair and massaged his head in what he hoped was a soothing way. If only he'd come up to the suite earlier - perhaps Carlos wouldn't have worked himself up into such a state. 

"Well," Max said, softtly, "Carlos, my team mate who is every bit as good as me, if not better, _I'll_ never drop you. I promise."

Carlos didn't reply, sniffling and wiping his nose on Max's shirt. Max placed his fingers under Carlos' chin and lifted his head, kissing the tears from his wet cheeks and stroking his jaw line with his thumb. Max had had his fair share of bad luck this season so far and Carlos had always been there for him. He wondered if Carlos felt this heartbroken when he saw Max so upset.

"I promise," Max repeated, smiling as he leaned in to place his lips delicately against Carlos'.

The Spaniard lifted his head more, untangling his fingers from Max's shirt and placing his hand on the back of Max's head, pulling him in closer. Max ran his tongue along Carlos' lips. They tasted salty from the tears before they parted and the driver's tongues tangled, exploring each others mouths until they had to part for breath.

"Shouldn't you be out celebrating with your team?" Carlos asked, his tears dried up but his voice still shaking.

His big, puppy-dog, dark brown eyes stared across the pillow at Max who reached up and ran his thumb along Carlos' cheek, smiling because, even red and puffy from crying, they were still the most beautiful eyes Max had ever seen.

"I am with my team," Max replied, leaning forward and lightly brushing his lips again Carlos' again, before shuffling down the bed and resting his head on the Spaniard's chest, listening to his heart-beat flutter against his ear.


End file.
